If I had to guess, they might shake this in a couple of hours. Possibly sooner—especially Crypt, who must have a serious tolerance for true horror, considering his history.
But that still gives me time to get shit done without putting my quintet in more danger.
“I’ll be back soon,” I quietly tell my unconscious quintet as I prepare a transportation spell, unnatural magic humming to life around my blood-darkened gloves. “Get better because I…”
I can’t survive losing any of you.
The words catch in my mouth, and I instead mutter, “Because I’ll be pissed if you don’t. And when I get back, we’re going to Canada.”
26
MAVEN
I stepout of the cuchillería, scanning the streets as I discreetly slip the small knives I just bought into concealed locations on my person. One in my boot opposite Pierce, two up my sleeves, one at the waist of my pants.
It's taken two hours to prepare, and now the sun is low on the horizon in this part of the globe. As much as I would love to draw this out and enjoy the kill, I need to wrap it up quickly and return to my quintet.
Gods, I can't stop thinking about them. I know they’re not awake yet, or I would have heard them in my head by now.
Humans are out and about, enjoying the sunset as they stroll the walkways or buy steaming food from street vendors. They mind their own business as I walk toward the coast, where the street I’m looking for will run parallel to the ocean.
Iker Del Mar is here in northern Spain, in this little town.
I’m going to kill him, even though I am fucking exhausted.
After transporting to Madrid and then here, I'm running tragically low on fuel for my magic. The fight in Alaska, the run-in with Gideon, and being unable to picture anything exceptmy matches bleeding out in the snowy wilderness have left my eyelids and bones feeling heavy.
At least I now have everything necessary to take down the immortal hydra shifter efficiently.
I magically mixed the tiniest amount of my nightshade root powder with a tranquilizer I stole from the American embassy security room in Madrid. I had to knock out lots of humans, magic wards, and a few security cameras to get to it, but I managed.
It's a standard but powerful emergency tranquilizer that authorities are mandated to keep on hand in the event of a feral shifter. It prevents a target from shifting, regardless of size, and will force a shift back to human form.
Laced with nightshade root powder, it should weaken Del Mar so much that killing him off will be a breeze.
Ignoring the exhaustion weighing on me, I slip onto the street described in Engela's letter, adjusting my sunglasses. I'm also wearing a big black sun hat in the interest of disguise since humans have heard my description on the news.
Beautiful pastel houses rise up the side of the mountain to my right, vibrant in the golden sunset. The street ends abruptly to my left with a road and a small fence before dropping off into the dark blue ocean.
I've never seen the ocean before. It's immense—a beautifully brutal, undefeatable facet of nature.
If we make it through all this, I'd like to visit a private beach somewhere with my quintet, like Kenzie once talked about doing. I can easily see Everett lathering himself and me up in sunscreen while Baelfire cracks jokes about nude beaches. Silas would probably read aloud to me under an umbrella to stay out of the sun. Crypt would go swimming with me and steal my bikini top.
Damn it. I need to get back to them.
I want every possible fucking second I can have with my quintet because I know there's a limit to what we can experience together before I fade to nothing.
If I could just find a way to exist after seeing my mission through…
I stop a few houses down from a mansion where two men chat outside the front door. They have their parts down perfectly, dressed like human tourists, but I note how they scan the area.
They're security. Most likely strong legacies.
It’s good that this coastal street is empty except for the three of us.
One of them notices me lingering. As soon as his eyes narrow suspiciously, I rush toward them, waving and shouting because one of the best ways to throw an opponent off is by being as loud and conspicuous as possible.
“Hello! I'm so sorry, but do either of you guys speak English?”
